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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Destan" data-source="post: 1150725" data-attributes="member: 12157">Hope When Hope Has FledJohn dragged a hand through his hair and stared at the blackness.  His emotions had ranged from utter panic to anticipatory dread to, now, resentment.  Baphtemet, you whoreson, stop toying with us.  It was the seventh time he had had a similar thought, and it was the seventh time the Pellman half-expected and half-feared to hear the demon’s response - within his head or otherwise.The period of time immediately following Kellus’ half-choked scream was, understandably, one of madness.  The group had ricocheted and bounced off numerous walls and archways before Amelyssan was able to cast a light spell on Baden’s axe.  Once the humans could see, their retreat was no less hurried but certainly more organized.Yet they had reached the final cavern – the former lair of the now-dead wyvern – without incident.  No pounding, pursuing footsteps.  No telepathic warnings or demonic cajoling.  Nothing.  The sun had been balanced on the western horizon when they first exited the tomb; it was now nearly hidden.Amelyssan had been the first to break their terrified silence, urging in his characteristically soft tones for the lot of them to relax, listen, and let some of the tension leave their muscles.Tension?  What tension?  John made no effort to hide his scowl as he furiously, and unsuccessfully, worked his flint and tinder.  The southlander was fairly confident not one of them would survive the upcoming confrontation – after all, he had seen what Baphtemet had done to those hapless Gondians within the tomb.  John interrupted his own train of thought.  “Do you mean to tell me that not one of us – not one – dropped a crown or two for a single, thrice-damned sunrod?”His companions pointedly ignored him.  John looked at each of them in turn, though none returned his gaze, before recommencing his self-pity with a sigh.  Despite the imminent doom, he could not help but curse the little things: his toes were cold, his cloak threadbare, his mouth tasted like a dwarf’s backside – not that he had firsthand knowledge – and…“Bah!  These damned torches won’t catch fire!”Raylin threw his own last, lit torch forward into the cavern’s darkness before turning toward the bard.  “Your hands are shaking, friend.”  His tone was more of comfort than accusation.  “Be easy on the flint, ‘lest you chip so and it loses its edge.”  John spat and threw his pair of unlit brands at the ranger’s feet.  “I know how to light a torch, Larrenman.”Raylin studied him quietly before bending to retrieve the torches.John opened his mouth of if to say something, thought better of it, and closed it once more.  He watched the Larrenman kneel and begin to strike flint to steel, a small bough of dried nestles and tinder at the terminus of the sparks’ arc.  He turned away the moment the fire took.***Raylin looked away from John’s back and glanced about the cavern for perhaps the twentieth time.  He did not like the idea of fighting here, within the wyvern’s former lair; it was too dark, for one; the floor too uneven, for two.But he liked the idea of fighting outside upon the ledge even less.Once they realized Baphtemet had not decided to immediately pursue them, Kellus had told of the bodies smashed against the tomb’s ceiling outside the demon’s prison.  Strike that – former prison.  The Larrenman was uncertain as to what powers the demon possessed, but great strength was obviously one of them.  Raylin did not relish the thought of being thrown or pushed over the cliff’s edge any more than his companions did.So the encounter would be here - within the mountain instead of outside it - and well away from the dizzying precipice.  And since the humans of the group – himself included – could not see through the gloom, Raylin and John had busied themselves illuminating the place as best they could.The ranger dipped both of John’s torches into his makeshift flame. He allowed the fire to lick the beeswax for a handful of heartbeats before throwing both brands deeper into the tomb, down the lone corridor leading to their current position.  If Baphtemet was indeed coming for them, he would be coming down that avenue – unless the demon had other means of transportation.  Raylin ignored that final thought; no sense in belaboring the already-evident sense of futility.The Larrenman paused, ensuring neither torch extinguished upon impact, then moved backward toward his companions.His mind wandered as he sought a decent spot of ground upon which to make his stand.  Raylin was not so vain that he would not admit fear – at least to himself.  An inner voice, borne from that fear, pleaded with him to roll the stone plug back into place and bound down the mountainside like a fleeing snowcat.Aye, sure I could run, Raylin thought, replying to his own suggestion.  But if I can move that plug, as Vath did, then the demon certainly can as well.  And then what?  The ranger shook his head, mouth moving with silent words.  Then what, you mud-between-your-toes clanner?  Fight the demon while clinging to a cliff?Raylin ceased his inner monologue with an audible sigh.  He had located a swath of ground, relatively even, directly opposite the hole.  Should the demon want to escape, it would need to go through Raylin.  And if some of his companions decided to flee…well, he would do as best he could to slow the demon’s pursuit.  There are worse ways to die.Raylin drew his swords. ***Baden watched Raylin cut the air with his swords.  The blades actually whistled with the deft strokes.  The dwarf was uncertain which he admired more – the craftsmanship of the weapons or the man who wielded them.  Baden waited for Raylin to pause before stepping forward to look up at his friend.  “We killed a wyvern here.”  The Axemarch dwarf jerked a thumb toward the snow-covered corpse in the dying sunlight behind them.  “Why not a demon, too?”“Indeed,” Raylin laughed softly, “why not?”Baden did not know what to say, so he said those things that came easiest to him.  “Remember Olgotha?”“I remember.”“Do ye recall how we worked them dwem between the two ‘o us?  Let us do that with this black bitch as well.  Stay clear for a moment, let our friends pepper the lout with a couple bolts, mayhaps a bit o’ magic, and then we’ll move forward.”Baden gestured toward the rocky ground just on their side of the gaping hole.  “Pin him there, I am thinkin’, and hope he concentrates on us rather than those in the back ranks.”  Baden cocked his head to one side, listening intently, before continuing.  “If we be lucky, the half-troll may get behind him – much like he done to that wyvern.  Hearin’ ol’ Baphy’s neck snap – well, t’would be a pleasant enough sound, I am thinking.”Raylin rested each of his blades on his shoulders, pommels toward the ground.  “I remember Olgotha.  I also remember that you are not the fleetest of foot.”  The ranger laid a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.  “I think it took you the better part of a tenday to reach the summit-”“Ah, well,” Baden interrupted with a cough, “that was all according to me plan.  Tactics, friend ranger, tactics.  I wanted to surprise them dark dwarves whilst they was concentrating on you and the other boys.”Raylin nodded.  Neither of them believed Baden’s statement.  “If it begins to go badly for us, then you had best get a head-start down the mountain.  We’ll need to move fast.”  The ranger withdrew his hand.  “I will catch up - after.”Neither of them believed that, either.***Vath cut the air with his hand.  The group immediately went silent.  The half-troll loped forward and shoved his shaggy head into the black hole.  “I hear him.”Vath stepped away from the opening, positioning himself to Raylin’s left, the dwarf remaining on the far side of the ranger.  The three of them – half-troll, human, and dwarf - comprised the front rank.  Should they fall, each of them knew, the battle would be over before it began.  They would need to purchase time with their blood – such was ever the lot of warriors. Raylin’s discarded torches served their purpose - a shadow appeared against the tunnel wall, dancing in the flickering torchlight, though a turn in the corridor prevented the party from yet seeing its owner.  Vath bent at his knees, half-crouched, and brought his fists up before him.  He shifted his weight from one foot to another in a practiced, rhythmic motion.Then, without further preamble, Baphtemet stepped around the bend.The demon was half-again as tall as Vath, his mottled skin the color of pitch and stormclouds.  Above and behind his head were two boney points of vestigial wings.  His teeth were bared in the rictus of a grin – needle-sharp and gleaming white.  He carried no possessions save his tangible hatred, no weapons save his talons.  Taken on the whole, it was a sight that would unnerve most men.“We meet again,” came his greeting, his voice at once both soothing and terrifying.Twang!  Only the head and chest of Baphtemet could be seen through the hole, for the tunnel sloped downward past the tomb’s entrance.  Nonetheless, John’s bolt flew true.  The acid-laced projectile shot through the air, passing through Baphtemet’s throat with no sound of impact or change in its trajectory.The bolt shattered harmlessly against the rock wall behind where the demon…once stood.  For Baphtemet, in the bat of an eye, had disappeared.“Ilmater bless us,” Vath said, his eyes darting left and right.Beside him, Raylin swore.  “Invisible!”Yet even as the ranger shouted his warning, Baphtemet appeared once again.  He walked around the bend – a repeat of what they had just seen.  And then another Baphtemet followed.  And a third, a fourth.  Each of the demons seemed to occupy the same space, and yet each was distinct.  Their forms wavered and flickered, much like the torchlight.  What in the name of all the gods- ***“Illusion!” barked Kellus.  The priest wrapped four fingers around the trigger of his massive crossbow.  His bolt went wide of Baphtemet – of all the Baphtemets – and exploded with sparks against the cave wall.  “A mirror image – there is but one of him!”Kellus reached for a second bolt.  He looked up to locate his target as he hastily slipped the quarrel into his crossbow – and stopped.  The demon – including each illusionary image – was staring directly at him.The winged fiend nimbly walked up the slope, ducked under the entranceway, and strode toward Kellus – for all intents ignoring Kellus’ companions standing between the two of them.The former priest discarded his crossbow and drew his mace.  He wanted to unsling his shield, but feared he would not have the opportunity.  His knees were weak and the mace felt unbearably heavy in his grasp.  Yet if Baphtemet meant to destroy him first, then so be it.  He would sell himself dearly.Baden, however, seemed to have a different idea of how things should proceed.Even as Kellus walked forward, the dwarf stepped closer to Raylin and swung his axe at the back of Baphtemet’s knee.  The half-moon edge bit deeply, and the demon’s black face paled with transitory pain.  The wound would have hamstrung a normal man – but Baphtemet was no normal man.  The horrid gash began to knit itself together the moment after the strike.Thus was the battle joined.  John fired again and again – and with each report of his snapping bowstring, another of the demon’s images was snuffed out.  Vath dropped to a low crouch and swung his foot outward, attempting to trip the fiend, but he, too, only struck an illusionary double.  Raylin fared better – of his two initial cuts, one hit home – the audible sound of steel cutting flesh reverberated throughout the cavern.Baphtemet seemed to recognize his danger.  He looked away from Kellus for the first time, and fastened his eyes on the Larrenman.  With a sneer and a flick of his hand, the clansman was slammed backward by an unseen force, ribs cracking from the thrust.Suddenly the air around the demon exploded with sparkling motes of dust.  Baphtemet roared.  “He’s blind!” cried Amelyssan, first in elvish and then in the common tongue.Kellus did not hesitate.  He smote the demon, all his effort focused on imploding the fiend’s skull.  Yet his mace traveled only through air, winking out the final image, and it was all Kellus could do to recover without falling prone.Baphtemet stepped backward and murmured arcane words.  His eyes refocused on the enemies before him, though his outline remained draped within the golden nimbus of Amelyssan’s dust.  Raylin slashed, Baden hewed at the beast’s legs, and Vath leapt upon him, delivering a terrible bite to the fiend’s unarmored shoulder.The demon shook Vath from him like a wolfhound might a puppy.  He gestured toward Baden and the dwarf’s breastplate bent inward as yet another invisible burst of force rent the air.  Baden stumbled backward, nearly dropping his axe, his mouth opened wide for air as the breath was knocked from him.And a new combatant entered the fray, for Amelyssan sent a bulbous flame bouncing across the rock to impact against the demon’s back.  The globe of fire, a near-spherical sponge the color of sunset, crackled and roared.  Yet Baphtemet paid it no mind, and his skin seemed impervious to the heat that would undoubtedly melt mortal flesh.Again Vath attempted to latch his fangs upon Baphtemet’s body, but this time he missed.  Baden struck the fiend in the hip and was rewarded with a shout of surprised pain – not all of the wound disappeared, this time.  Raylin stepped forward and landed two equally telling blows even as another of John’s bolts – this one trailing a trickle of blessed water – punctured the demon’s chest and remained transfixed therein.“Enough!”  Baphtemet roared.  A palpable wave of dread exploded outward from him.  Kellus grit his teeth and fought against the urge to run, the bile of fear threatening to vomit from his mouth.  I shall not flee from you, abomination!But, Kellus saw, others of his party were not so fortunate in their defense.  The cave echoed with the sounds of steel on stone as swords and axe clanged onto the ground. “Hold!” he cried, but he was powerless to shield his friends against the demon’s mental onslaught.Raylin and Baden sprinted away from the demon, toward the ledge outside the cavern, their faces twisted in terror.  Even Vath’s complexion was more white than green.  The half-troll monk slunk away from Baphtemet like a whipped dog before disappearing into the tomb’s tunnel.And with them, Kellus knew, went any chance the party had at survival.***Amelyssan’s fingers danced through his pouch – wax, crickets, string, webs, packets of sand, and – there! – a folded scrap of parchment holding ground mica.  He glanced upward as he produced the spell component, and willed his flaming sphere to once again strike the demon.  It did.  But, as the elf suspected, once again left no smoking scars in its wake.  The demon was immune to such damage.Amelyssan murmured arcane words and tossed the mica into the air.  Golden motes showered Baphtemet, and for a fleeting instant the demon appeared worried – even fearful.  But the instant passed.  And his eyes marked Amelyssan for but a heartbeat before the demon impaled Kellus with his glare.John stepped forward, in front of the former priest, his rapier now in hand.  He thrust with amazing quickness, leaving a neat hole the size of a fingernail in the demon’s stomach.  “Run!” the bard cried over his shoulder.Baphtemet ignored the minstrel and his steel.  He stepped aside, gestured with casual indifference, and smiled as both Kellus and John collapsed into a comatose slumber.“And so - it ends.”  Baphtemet coolly regarded Amelyssan.  “You have the stink of that ape Ippizicus upon you.”Demon and elf faced one another, each representing races which had fought one another since Saficea the Fathergod first wept his tears onto Ostia Prim.  Amelyssan had not the courage to speak – not yet – but neither would he run.  His friends lay at his feet, helpless.  The elf drew his sword.Baphtemet’s smile dripped mockery.  “So then, have you exhausted your charlatan tricks?”  The black-skinned fiend thrust one arm into Amelyssan’s hovering globe of flame.  “Depleted your simpleton spells?”Baphtemet stepped over Kellus’ still form and closed the distance toward the elf.  He was in no hurry, not now.The battle was won – the demon knew it, and Amelyssan knew it.  The elf was decent with a blade – all of his kind were – but he was no match for the demon.  Even though Baphtemet bled from numerous wounds, even though Amelyssan could see the demon was but a hair’s breadth from collapsing, it was over.  One more telekinetic thrust and Amelyssan would join his companions upon the blood-splattered floor.“Really, elf,” Baphtemet cooed, “I expected more from you.  You, of all these fools,” he waved a hand toward the bodies at his feet and toward the tunnels wherein the warriors had fled.  “You should have known fire cannot harm one such as I.”Amelyssan licked his lips.  He did not trust himself to speak.  In spite of his will to remain steadfast, he felt himself backing away.  If I can buy time, if I can keep him busy, perhaps-Baphtemet shook his head.  “I am sorry, but no.  The fear will last long, and the sleep longer.  I will destroy your companions piecemeal.”  The demon stopped his advance, eyes never leaving Amelyssan’s own.  “Though some – such as your faithless dog of a one-time priest – will feel my anger a bit longer.  Yes, yes – quite a bit longer.”Amelyssan stopped just under the archway leading to the ledge outside.  His shadow was long before him; the demon but a handful of paces distant.  The elf gripped his longsword with both hands, holding the blade before him like a beacon.In those last moments of his life, Amelyssan thought of his childhood.  So long ago.  The pain of knowing he would never again see the Grun islands, never again sit beneath a lefalas tree with a tome of knowledge opened upon his lap – it was nearly overwhelming.  Elves were masters at masking their emotions, but Amelyssan felt his lips quiver.Baphtemet's laugh spoiled his memories and stained his yearnings for home.  “You intrigue me, elf.  Were you not so misguided, I may have taken you on as an apprentice.  Under my wing, as it were.  Alas, I would rather not see you weep – it might ruin the glory of this moment.”The demon raised his hand, fingers outstretched.  “Tell your petty gods a new god will soon be joining them, and they had best learn to kneel.”And then…then Amelyssan smiled.  The sounds of burning flesh crackled faintly in the cavern, followed shortly thereafter by a soft scuff of leather on stone.Baphtemet had eyes only for the elf, his own face evidencing a tint of astonishment.  “You smile at your own death?”Amelyssan finally found his voice.  “No,” he said, even as he watched a terrified understanding dawn in the demon’s eyes, “I smile at yours.”For the elf had burned his friend with the flaming sphere, the very moment before it winked from existence.  And thus Kellus had awakened from his magically-induced slumber.  The priest stood behind the demon, mace raised toward the stalactites overhead, his face covered with soot and blood but set with a fierce and deadly determination.The spiked mace fell--and Baphtemet’s head exploded with the impact.Amelyssan wiped a bit of demonic brain from his cheek, his smile wan but shining.  “Thank you.”The former priest stared at Baphtemet’s body where it spasmed at his feet.  He returned Amelyssan’s look.“No, friend,” Kellus shook his head.  “Thank Helm.”</blockquote>

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